Royal wanderer: or, Gods providence manifested, in the most mysterious deliverance of the divine majesty of Charls the Second, king of Great Britain ... To the tune of: The wandering prince of Troy, or, Troy town.

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Title
Royal wanderer: or, Gods providence manifested, in the most mysterious deliverance of the divine majesty of Charls the Second, king of Great Britain ... To the tune of: The wandering prince of Troy, or, Troy town.
Publication
London :: Printed for F. Grove ...,
[1660]
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Subject terms
Charles -- II, -- King of England, 1630-1685 -- Poetry.
Ballads, English -- 17th century.
Broadsides -- England -- 17th century.
Cite this Item
"Royal wanderer: or, Gods providence manifested, in the most mysterious deliverance of the divine majesty of Charls the Second, king of Great Britain ... To the tune of: The wandering prince of Troy, or, Troy town." In the digital collection Early English Books Online 2. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/B05056.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 5, 2024.

Pages

[illustration]

[illustration]

VVHen ravishing Rebellion reignes, Then Loyalty is lead in chaines, The Royall Princes of the blood, By Traitors are not understood, but they could not his fate pull down, that was preserv'd for Englands Crown.
Witnesse the heat at Worcester fight, Which put our Royall King to flight, When twice a stately horse was there, Shot under him by chance of warre. ut all that chance could not throw down a Prince preserv'd for Englands Crown.
et was he forc'd to quit the field, inces sometimes to slaves must yéeld: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with some faithfull Lords did fly, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 places for obscurity. •••…•••…d at a Farme-house there did he isrobe himself of Royaltie.
〈◊〉〈◊〉 chain of Gold, whose good account Did to thrée hundred pounds amount, 〈…〉〈…〉ve a trusty servant, and Discharg'd them all from his command. then the Lord Wilmot with their knives cut both their hair, to save their lives.
hus with one friend faithfull and good, He wanders through an obscure wood: Untill a hollow Oake unknown Was made the King of Englands Throne, and all the succour that was brought, was by this Loyall servant sought.
But Wilmot in his wanderings, A Souldier met of the old Kings, That knew him, and with true good will, Secur'd him in a Malt-house Kill, where he lay sweating, almost fier'd till Souldiers came, search'd, and retir'd.
'Twas nere the house of Mistresse Lane, Whose name let no wilde tongue prophane, The Lord, with dangers much distrest, Told how the poore King was opprest, to Mistresse Lane, whose sighs and tears, did shew her sorrows, griefs, and fears.
She humbly doth implore that he, Would séek his sacred Majesty: And bring him thither, that she might Take spéedy order for his flight. brave Wilmot he with eyes nere shut, till with much search he found him out.
Then from the hollow trée he brings This heart of Oake, and best of Kings, To Mistresse Lanes, where after shée, Did knéel unto his Soveraignty: They call a counsill how he shou'd, in safety passe the Ocean flood.
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